


The Portal

by Starlightdawn



Category: Ghost Adventures RPF, Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:37:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7013089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlightdawn/pseuds/Starlightdawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This has a link to another of my stories, but, for a change, no smut.<br/>Disappointed?<br/>I'll write more when i can<br/>I just love Vanessa......<br/>And poor Zak is out of his depth....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gone

Late. Dark. Quiet. A slight breeze stirred the leaves into unrest, making them jitter along twisted branches.  
Inside the circle, a grassy clearing. Around the perimeter the dark trees of the forest crowd in, holding the space like witches raising power.

He was where he wanted to be, in Romania.

On the edge of the clearing in the Hoia Baciu Forest. His breath came hard. The tension of the wait; the build-up, fear, curiosity, achievement; emotions all crowded into his headspace, until his senses were spinning, making him dizzy, fearful; a child at the fair wanting to ride the painted horses, but scared; the sensation too much to handle.

His thoughts were racing,  
“……..even, deep, use the breath technique, slow the heart, plant feet hard on the Romanian Earth; stand tall and do the job.”  
His mental chatter was practiced and effective. Ready for the camera, he intended to turn, to face Billy, but then he couldn’t. He was effectively frozen, but then something was pulling at him, his whole consciousness taken away…. Billy’s voice fades….and he was floating……no fear……..nothing…..but then rapid, uncontrolled movement…..was it across time and space, or was it in the split second before he hit the Earth?

Ground, hard, rocky; roots twisting. Cold gravel under his hands. Looking up into….open space? Moon rising into a massive sky, arching over his head and outwards to eternity. Startled, heart racing, the dark haired man gaped up at the star filled sky.  
Where had he been? Had he fainted? Where was this, a moor he’d never seen before, numbingly cold and silent like an open grave? He gave in to his weakness, leaning onto one of the large stones surrounding him. It was too strange, all his eyes could do was relay the vast open skies into his mind, to hang there, a duplicate in miniature of the deserted world stretching around him. 

Small noises, scratching like animal claws against the tight seal of his fear. His eyes registered only a darker outline, against the dark sky, quick as a snake, it leaped and landed. Zak pushed his back against the stone, this seemed real, hearing shrill animal screams, and harsh guttural grunts; victim and captor only feet away from his immobile body.

His eyes, accustomed to darkness, watched the shape rise from the ground, something swinging from his hand. It was a tall man; Zak tried to form words as the figure approached, but stared at the dark clothes, baggy overcoat, and longish floppy hair, the face grey in the starlight.

“What the Fuck?” the voice low and gravelly, and, even more surprising, American, in this place which was so obviously not America. “What are you doing here mister……..?”

Reassured that the figure was human, Zak stood to his full height, still a couple of inches shorter than the other, whose shadowed eyes were staring intently, keeping a distance, tense and watchful in the starlit gloom.

“I’m Zak. Zak Bagans. I was in Romania, investigating the Hoia-Baciu Forest for paranormal activity, then…..well…then I found myself here…..I’ve absolutely no idea what happened…One minute there……then here…….”

Zak’s voice stilled and they both looked hard at each other.

“There……..Here……?” The tall stranger’s cynical attitude was obvious in only two words.

“Where is here? I need to find Billy…..” Zak’s voice small, slightly tremulous, in the overwhelming silence.

“Dartmoor. England. The year of our lord 1891.”

“What the Fuck…..man you must be shitting me……” Zak slumped against the rock, his reaction a physical thing.

“Nope. I shit you not.” A light trace of humour warmed his voice, as he held out a hand, Zak finds the palm warm and dry, strangely rough, like the pads of a dog, comforting nevertheless.

”I’m Ethan, Ethan Chandler. Just getting a li’le something for dinner…..you care to join us?” He had a southern drawl, not unlike Zak’s own, a trace of familiarity in this engulfing strangeness.

“Yeah…..yeah……..thanks…….” Zak could find no other words, and fell in step behind the man called Ethan, trying to avoid the twisted roots of bracken, as the other’s long sure strides took a direction across the moonlit land, towards a plume of grey smoke, rising like a wraith into the star filled sky.

 

The cabin was old and ramshackle; signs of a recent fire blackened the timbers around the door, which opened to reveal the yellow glow of lamplight from within. Zak looked around, wide eyed, as he saw an open hearth, a slate floor, and numerous weird objects hanging down from the rafters, and a suspicion of lurking things hiding in the dark. A staircase rose up in one corner, presumably leading to the upper level, half exposed, like a hayloft in a cattle shed. The light from the fire, combined with the smoking oil lamp, gave a comforting glow. Ethan, taking the first opportunity to appraise his new house guest, looked curiously at the coat Zak was wearing, a black zippered thing, white stripes, and stitching overlaid in roundels. Almost in a dream, Zak shucks the jacket down over his arms, and hands it to Ethan; whose fingers explore the zips, intrigued.

Zak shivers, although the fire is bright, the heat cannot overcome the cold. Something moves. The long bench facing the fire has a blanket spread upon it. Zak sees the blanket move, and a hand, white in the firelight, emerges. A tangle of unruly dark hair follows, rising from the blanket, gracefully pushed back by the hand. Zak feels his heart beat faster, as a woman is revealed, standing, pulling her blanket over narrow shoulders, her eyes slant towards him, then quickly away. Her smile is only for Ethan.  
She steps into the space; the oil lamp flickers over the high cheekbones and long straight brows, as she slides past Zak, to stand in her lovers embrace. That much is clear; her back sinks against his chest, as he holds her around the narrow waist, his mouth planting a soft kiss just above her ear.

“This is Miss Ives.”

Zak reaches to her, hand extended, his voice low,

“Zak. Zak Bagans. Ma’am.” Her hand is small, firm, capable. She looks into his eyes; for an instant he knows her.

“Vanessa” was all she said.

Ethan presented the rabbit, rewarded with another of Vanessa’s smiles, then moved with Zak to the long bench, motioning him to sit. Sounds of cooking, clattering and chopping, reminded Zak he was hungry. He pulled back his sleeve, to expose the large dial and fancy strap of his watch, the time of twelve thirty displayed by the LED. Ethan twisted to stare, his eyes, brown and dog like in the firelight, curious.

Zak slips off the watch, and hands it over, unhesitating. Something about this tall stranger inspires trust.  
“It’s a digital watch – it tells time, obviously, temperature, I can read my E mails…..” His voice trails off, the realisation that e-mails in 1891 are as yet unknown, hitting him hard. Ethan slides his fingers into his waistcoat pocket, pulling out an ancient time piece on a silver chain. Flipping it open he compares the two.

“Exactly four hours apart.” His voice is deep and pleasant, curious, not unduly worried. But it isn’t him that’s fallen through a hole in time; it’s Zak.

Ethan sees Zak eyeing the pistols, the worn but gleaming weapons holstered securely. He unhooks the heavy belt from his hips and hangs it up, close enough to be near, but out of the way of harm.

“So….Zak……tell me about yourself….”

The Ghost Hunter pushed out his long legs, and sat back on the wooden bench, turning to face Ethan, inhaling slowly, thinking, wondering if he was still the person he had always been.

“I’m an American, like yourself. I live in Las Vegas, but I travel a lot…. with my job.”

“Your job being…..?” Ethan’s voice betrayed none of the suspicion he felt. He was always aware of the many possibilities of capture, of being hunted down, caught, imprisoned. His warm brown eyes flicked to the holstered guns, then back to meet Zak’s deep blue stare, seeing not only unease, but genuine puzzlement in the wide guileless eyes.

“I hunt ghosts.”

Ethan’s head shot back, as his amused laugher erupted, making Zak squirm and look away, embarrassed.

“What?” he asked, smiling….”for fuck’s sake….why?”

Zak looked over his shoulder, seeing Vanessa’s smile, echoing Ethan’s wide white grin.

“I need answers man…..about what happens when we die…where we go….that sort of thing…”

Ethan, smile held slightly in check, met Zak’s eyes.

“You should talk to Vanessa…..she knows a lot about spirits……..”

Zak felt the heat of the fire through the soles of his boots, and moved back, rubbing the small lick of stubble covering his chin. He tried hard to face facts as he knew them, it was 1891, he was in England, with no idea why, and even less idea of how he could get back. His thoughts halted when Vanessa hung a blackened pot over the fire, and sat across from him, her boot tops showing under the long dark skirt.

The blue eyed man glanced again at her angular features, finding her eyes staring back at him unflinchingly. He had met her, he knew he had, somewhere in another time.

“Miss Ives, have we met before?”

Her eyebrow rose, quizzically.

“Have you ever lived in Northumberland….in a castle…..Damn….’something..nick’?” He clutched at the memory, of an old investigation they did in England. Both Aaron and Nick were with him, he had almost been hurled from the battlements…..It was something best forgotten, he had been hurt, he had that clear impression without knowing why.

She looked away, tilting her head, and he saw the profile, straight nose and high forehead, her lips curving in a smile as she gazed into the firelight, then the steel grey eyes tracked back, to hold his stare with an almost palpable force.

“No, I’ve never been to that place.” A short hesitation. “But my mother was born there.”

He looked away, he had problems enough without adding her to the puzzle.

Ethan spoke. “Our lost friend here was telling me he looks for spirits, darlin’, I wondered if you could help him.” He was smiling again, in that cynical way.

“It may be more appropriate to help him find the way home….the spirits can speak for themselves, should they so choose……”

“Very well.” Ethan was looking at her, deferring to her decision, his lazy smile held secrets only the two of them shared. Zak felt his face warm, the intensity between the pair almost crackled like the fire in the hearth. Vanessa stood abruptly, and stirred the cooking pot, the appetising smell now drifting up made Zak’s belly rumble. She moved away from the firelight towards the crooked staircase, the treads creaking under her boots. Zak felt a shiver go through him, as the new reality settled over the old one. He thought of Billy and Aaron, his mom, his dog……at that he couldn’t hold back a sob, trying to clear his throat to hide his emotion.

A warm friendly hand squeezed his shoulder, and he realised Ethan had somehow understood.

“Van will find a way to get you back to your own times, I’m sure of it.”

Zak stared back into the fire, his black brows drawn together in a frown.

 

The displaced Ghost Hunter had been staring sadly into the fire for quite a while, before the creaking staircase alerted him to Vanessa’s return, carrying a large book cradled in her arms. She gently placed the book on a shelf, before approaching the fire, to stir the bubbling stew. 

Ethan pushed a small table out between the seats, and various bowls and cutlery were spread out, together with a well baked crusty loaf of bread. The food was shared between the three of them, the lack of a spoon for Zak compensated by Ethan and Vanessa moving to the bench seat and sharing. A mug of ale washed down the meal, after which Zak begun to feel a little light headed. Vanessa lit a clove smelling cigarette, leaning back into Ethan’s broad chest, and smiled. 

“So, Mr Bagans, perhaps we should find out what is to become of you?” her voice purred softly, as she allowed small tendrils of smoke to curl around her face. She passed the cigarette to Ethan, then with Zak’s help, cleared away the remains of the meal. Spreading a deep wine coloured cloth over the table, she fetched the book and placed it carefully in the centre.

Zak took in the worn leather of the binding with interest, noting that the tooled pattern and intricate lettering seemed all to be in a foreign script. He shuffled forward a little, better to see, when he heard a softly spoken warning from the woman opposite.  
“Do not touch this, Zak, it has the power to enslave you”

“What is it?” Zak was falling under the spell of the ancient looking tome, and when Vanessa lifted the cover, he couldn’t help but allow his eyes to drink up the strange curling script, something like Arabic, on the page.

The woman met his eyes with her own sphinx like stare.

“It’s a Necronomicon. There are very few left in this world, and even fewer people who can make sense of them.” Zak was stunned, he knew a Necronomicon was an invention of fiction, several years in the future. Yet here he was, looking at one. He felt a shiver down his spine.

Her fingers, careful not to press the ancient vellum more than necessary, moved the pages, her lips murmuring quietly in a language Zak had never heard. He glanced back at Ethan, only to find that his eyes were turned away, gazing into the open fire, ignoring the interaction between the two.

Eventually, she ceased her strange muttering, and examined the page open in front of her. Zak could see a diagram, with wavy lines, and symbols, which Vanessa was examining in minute detail. She lit another of her cigarettes, almost making Zak cough as he tried to see the page through the veil of smoke. He saw Vanessa, a small smile of triumph on her beautiful face.

“There! There it is…the connection……”

“What connection?” Zak was on the edge of his seat.

“There is a portal, a doorway, call it what you will. A hole in the very fabric of time to allow connections to take place. There is a strong energy linking you to who or whatever is here.”

Her voice was low, it was as if another voice whispered within the harmonics of her tone. She gazed into the fire light, exhaling smoke in soft plumes, reminiscent of a Chinese Dragon.

“So, who or what are you connected to?”

She turned to face him, staring hard into his eyes, and he experienced a small jolt of electricity, fizzing along his spine, as he realised who she reminded him of. She was Lilith, the woman of the three day love affair, all but forgotten, long ago in her dim castle on the English coastline.

He stumbled over the words, unwilling to bring forward that which had been left in the back of his mind for so long.  
“It was Alnwick. The castle. We went to investigate. I met Lilith, we…sort of……it was very intense…….but I had to go home. We just left it there….no contact…nothing…..” his voice trailed off, low and unhappy, not at all sure of why the connection should manifest, it was at least five years since his visit to England. His deep blue smoky eyes stared hard into Vanessa’s pale grey gaze. “You look so much like her……. It’s unbelievable…..”

“This Lilith you speak of, she will be one of three sisters, yes?”

“Molly and ..ummm can’t remember… she was with Aaron…..” Zak muttered.

“So, three men and three sisters, for three days.” Vanessa was grinning, surprising Zak, lost in his melancholy memories.

“Yeah…..so what……? He leaned back, a small pang of guilt surfacing in his conscience.

“Sit down Zak, I know it might be a shock, but it’s not so difficult to understand.”

Ethan, who had been quiet the whole time stirred, finding Vanessa’s hand which he clasped in his own.  
“Time I had a look around outside, da’lin’ Won’t be long.” He pressed her small fingers to his lips, then stood, fastening on the gunbelt in a practised movement. He met Zak’s gaze, noting the other man’s discomfort, feeling it was something best left to Vanessa to sort out. 

Once the door had swung closed, Zak sat back, opposite Vanessa, who was quietly placing another log on the fire.

“So are you telling me that the connection between me and this place is you?”

“No, not me, but the portal opened because of your link to Lilith, and I am the nearest link to both the portal, in terms of location, and to her, - don’t you see, it’s her, my distant cousin yet to be born, who you are linked to.”

“Linked to? How? I don’t have any connection to her……..”

“Are you certain, Zak? You didn’t leave a little something behind?”

This time Zak had to acknowledge what she was telling him. Like a punch to the gut, the realisation that he may have fathered a child in the three days in England took his breath away. He pushed his fingers through his hair, sitting back heavily, his face showing the accumulated frustration at all the craziness surrounding him.

“So, if it is Lilith, and I doubt it, why am I here, and not there? It just doesn’t add up.”

“These portals, they don’t just spring up at the command of anyone who wants them, they occur in very specific places. It just so happened when you were near one, I was near another. There must be something happening with Lilith, something big, for you to be called so obliquely. I think you need to go back and to find her. If I am correct, it’s not just Lilith in trouble.”

They both fell silent, an overwhelming feeling of tiredness creeping over the tall ghost hunter, as his mind raced in all directions as if trapped in a maze in which his thoughts crashed and burned. Eventually he dozed, fitfully, jumping in his sleep, as the night wore on.

It was almost three am. The fire had burned to a low glow; Zak felt his shoulder shaken roughly, and a man whisper close to his ear.  
“Come on, get a move on…it’s time you went home…..”

His coat was shoved into his hands, as Ethan pulled him to stand upright.

“What…where are we going..?” Zak was disoriented, and thirsty.

“Well, you are going home, back to your ghosts and shenanigans, and then I’m going to bed.” Ethan spoke quietly, heading for the door.

“Where’s Lill…..Vanessa……I should say goodbye…..?”

“She’s sleepin’. Leave her be.“ Ethan eyed the black haired man, noticing how dishevelled he looked. His hair was tangled over his eyes, a splash of grease on his shirt collar, and a smear of dirt on his face gave him the appearance of having slept rough on the moor.  
With a slight smile quirking up his lips, the cowboy opened the door.

The freezing air cut through Zak’s coat like a rough blade, and he shivered. Ethan was heading along the slight trail, away from the cottage, forcing Zak to hurry to keep up. He risked a glance back, to the ramshackle building, and, seeing a light in the upstairs window, waved his hand in silent valediction.

Eventually, the moon, large and almost full, lit the way back to the standing stone where Zak had found himself almost four hours ago. He turned to Ethan.

“What now?” his voice was strained as he shivered in the freezing moonlight.

“Just wait……the time will catch up to the time you were in, then……well we’ll see…”

Zak peered hard at the face of his companion, the moonlight playing strange tricks, reflecting his eyes as large and slanting, and his teeth as protruding fangs. Zak shook his head, the headache behind his eyes fierce in its intensity. He pulled back his sleeve, in fifteen seconds he would have been away four hours. Four hours when he had travelled in time and space, both wildly interesting and yet deeply disturbing. Sickeningly, butterflies crowded his gut.

He turned to Ethan, holding out his hand to shake, but found that the tall cowboy had moved back into the shadows. Zak was alone, his knees shaking. He might never get back. He held on to the cold hard rock, his fingers digging in as he felt himself falling down an abyss of fear, still holding onto the rock.


	2. Returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Came back with more than he wanted to know...

“Hey man…..you are gripping my arm incredibly tight….Zak, are you ok?”

Zak stared, unseeing, at Billy’s anxious face, and tried very hard to relax his punishing grip on the smaller man’s arm. His head was whirling; jumbled impressions swirled chaotically, his eyes tearing up and his gut churning, he tried desperately to find himself again. It took him a few seconds before he registered he was back, on camera, and that Billy was trying to get him to talk about what had happened.

After a few attempts to speak, it became obvious that Zak was unfit to carry on, and Billy switched off the camera, just in time to avoid the sounds of Zak puking into the undergrowth. Billy waited until Zak regained his equilibrium, and they both returned to the vehicle, to sit staring blankly ahead, in silence.

“What happened, man…..you were so out of it…..?”

“I dunno……I think I fell through a portal, or some fucking thing…..all I remember is being out on a moor……and a woman who I knew, but didn’t know…..and a fucking cowboy…..and eating stew….and being the most fucking scared I’ve ever been in my life….”

Zak lapsed into silence.

“Sounds like you’ve been on quite a journey, Bro, sure you haven’t taken any hallucinogenics? By accident, of course……”

Zak gave Billy a very dirty look, then sighed, miserably.

“Trouble is, Billy, I found out something….something crazy….maybe I should just ignore it….I dunno” Zak turned away, realising that his emotions were getting the better of him again.

“Sure man……maybe you got dragged into this portal just purely coincidentally, whatever you found out, maybe you should just leave it there…” Billy’s voice was soft, as he tried to calm his friend.

Zak huffed in the darkness, the words “three men, three sisters….alone for three days” playing over and over in his mind. Despite Billy’s reassurance, he knew that he would never have peace of mind by ignoring what Vanessa had told him. He had to find out the truth.

But not here. Not now.

“Fuck it.” The tall man with the dark spiky hair pushed open the door.

“Come on Billy, stop dawdling and switch on the camera, I can see a light over there…!.”


End file.
